


Fates I: An Espa Encounter

by Mengde



Series: Sith Apprentice: Darth Venge [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Sith Obi-Wan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-03
Updated: 2016-02-03
Packaged: 2018-05-18 00:09:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5890468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mengde/pseuds/Mengde
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Qui-Gon Jinn is almost ready to leave Tatooine, with only one more bit of business to conclude in Mos Espa.  That may prove problematic, however, given that someone has tracked him there - someone out for his blood.  His name is Kenobi.  His Sith name is Venge...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fates I: An Espa Encounter

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Re-Entry Official Timeline](https://archiveofourown.org/works/913029) by [flamethrower](https://archiveofourown.org/users/flamethrower/pseuds/flamethrower). 



> Hi, I'm Mengde! I recently wrote a short piece, "Aggressive Negotiations," featuring my own take on flamethrower's character, Darth Venge, and it was well-received. I knew I wanted to do more, so I'm tossing it into a series with this one. My premise is simple: what if Qui-Gon Jinn was there to accept Maul from his mother on Dathomir, and Sidious took Obi-Wan Kenobi on as his apprentice?
> 
> I do intend to write more stories in this vein. Please enjoy this one!

Qui-Gon Jinn nodded in approval as he watched Watto press his thumb to the datapad’s display.  The motion confirmed Anakin’s freedom, and deactivated the microdetonators inside the boy.  When they arrived at the Jedi Temple, the explosives could be isolated by scans and surgically removed, but for now the boy was safe.

“Thank you,” he said.  “We’ll be on our way now.”

The Toydarian scowled at him.  “Everything gone,” he growled.  “And I don’t even know who you are.”

Qui-Gon shrugged.  “That, my friend, is what happens when you gamble.”

Naturally, with his freedom an accomplished fact, Anakin couldn’t resist the temptation the moment represented.  “He’s a Jedi!” the boy crowed.  “I’m gonna go and be a Jedi now too!”

Had it been up to him, Qui-Gon would not have revealed that fact.  However, the secret was out, and he permitted himself a moment’s enjoyment of the stunned look on Watto’s face.

“A Jedi?” an unfamiliar voice exclaimed from behind Qui-Gon.  “Thank you for making this easy!”

Qui-Gon, deeply attuned to the living Force, already had his lightsaber in his hand.  A premonition of danger howling in his mind, he brought the blade to life, the green beam interposing itself between him and the newcomer.

He had been expecting a blaster bolt.  He was surprised when the red flash came instead from a crimson lightsaber crashing against his own.  The young man holding the weapon was pale-skinned, brown-haired, his blue eyes glowing with yellow light and ringed by esoteric tattoos.  His clothing was unassuming, baggy desert wear, perfect for blending into a place like Mos Espa.

He grinned with evil purpose.  “You’re fast,” he observed; his accent betrayed a Rim origin, but was tinged with Core inflection.  “Perhaps I should be more cautious, facing the great and powerful Master Jinn.”

“Have we met before?” Qui-Gon asked, keeping his voice even.  “I feel I would remember you.”  He prepared himself for what he knew was coming.

“It’s not important,” his assailant said flippantly.  “You _are_ about to die.”

Qui-Gon met the attack as the young man launched into a vicious flurry of blows.  His red blade snaked through the air, going for Qui-Gon’s neck, heart, and abdomen within the space of two seconds.  The Jedi Master managed to turn aside the strikes, but he knew he was in trouble.  Dimly, he was aware of Watto pressing himself into a corner of the store, jabbering panicked nonsense in Huttese.

“Anakin, run!” he barked, using the Force to hurl his commlink at the boy.  “Get Maul!”  He feinted a slash at his opponent’s legs.  When the other man leapt into a somersault to avoid it, Qui-Gon seized on the opening to take two quick steps.  He placed himself between Anakin, who was already fleeing as instructed, and the Sith – for that was what he had to be.  The dark-side power blazing in him, the yellow glare now completely eclipsing the blue of his irises, the tattoos around his eyes, the distinctly synthetic activation hiss of his saber: all of these were circumstantial evidence at best, but Qui-Gon _knew_ in his bones what he faced.

“You went to a lot of trouble to free that boy,” the Sith laughed.  “Do all Jedi find pathetic life-forms fascinating, or is it a specialty of yours?”

He attacked again before Qui-Gon could answer.  The Jedi Master turned aside the first slash at his face, then decided to go on the offensive.  Following the momentum of his deflection, he slid forward into a shoulder check, his large frame slamming hard into the Sith’s body.  The smaller man went staggering backward, but before Qui-Gon could bring his saber around to exploit the opening, the Sith turned the stagger into another somersault.  He landed atop the counter of Watto’s store, chopping his saber down in overhand strikes which took advantage of his higher ground.

Rather than attempt to batter his way through the Sith’s defenses, Qui-Gon made for the store exit, trying to get out into the wider market area.  The cramped confines of the store were unsuited for his Ataru swordsmanship; hopefully the street would make it easier for him to combat this foe.

Behind him, he heard the Sith’s laughter, followed by the angry hum of a lightsaber and a Toydarian scream.  He got perhaps four meters into the street, the oppressive Tatooine heat slamming down on him, before the Sith was on him again, laughing like a maniac, lightsaber angling for Qui-Gon. 

The man fought with a devilish Soresu-Ataru hybrid form.  He turned aside Qui-Gon’s wide, powerful slashes with slight movements of his wrists and shoulders, using the Jedi Master’s own momentum against him, then launched into huge, acrobatic attacks which took all of Qui-Gon’s strength to batter away.  It was clear that this was going to be a battle of stamina, and that was a problem.  Qui-Gon was old, and the heat was already sapping his speed and power.  Meanwhile, the Sith was half his age, and in peak physical condition.

“You’re old and slow,” the Sith chuckled.  “Do you think that the boy can bring your apprentice quickly enough?  Your ship can’t be close.”

Qui-Gon did not reply, but instead drew deeply upon the Force and launched himself into a classic Ataru offensive sequence.  He began with a forward somersault to close the distance, lightsaber whirling around his body to ward off any attacks.  He landed only inches from the Sith, immediately putting the pressure on with swift, brutal strikes from the sides.  The flanking slashes made it difficult for him to turn the cuts away with Soresu, so he tried to put space between them.  As the Sith backpedaled, however, Qui-Gon kept pace with him, not giving him the space he needed to regain his momentum.

The Sith broke the rhythm by coming to a sudden halt and locking his blade with Qui-Gon’s, a foolish move given their weight differential.  “Well,” he growled.  “I’ll admit it.  You’re good, Master Qui-Gon.”

“I’ll accept your surrender, if you’re offering,” Qui-Gon said.

“Oh, but you didn’t let me finish,” the Sith said.  “You’re good, Master Qui-Gon.”  He brought his face to within bare inches of Qui-Gon’s, his eyes stained gold with anger even as a hideous grin contorted his features.

In the instant where Qui-Gon expected him to say something, the Sith struck.  A second lightsaber blade exploded out of the baggy clothing at his waist, triggered by the Force.  Qui-Gon instantly disengaged the blade lock, spinning away in a defensive whirl.  Even so, he wasn’t fast enough.  The tip of the lightsaber blade scored Qui-Gon across his waist, searing his flesh and setting his robe partially ablaze.  If the Force had not warned him and he’d remained in the blade lock, it would have stabbed him straight through his gut.

The Sith stood there, his second lightsaber now gripped in his off hand.  “Damn,” he observed idly.  “I was hoping that would work.”

Qui-Gon took a moment to probe his wound.  It wasn’t deep, and it had naturally been cauterized even as it had been inflicted, but more fighting would only make it worse.  The time limit imposed upon his ability to fight by his increasing fatigue had suddenly become much stricter.

“I’ve always wondered what it’s like, to kill a Jedi Master,” the Sith continued, whirling his lightsabers in a casual flourish.  “I hope it’s half as entertaining as killing that Toydarian just was.  His wings, they kept flapping after his head went flying!  It took at least three seconds for his body to drop.”

Qui-Gon felt his lip curl.  “That was unnecessary.”

“I disagree!  He was _quite_ annoying.”  The Sith raised his sabers in a ready posture.  “Do be a friend and make the rest of this fight a challenge, or die quickly so I can get on with my mission.  It’s this interminable middle ground that’s so uncivilized of you.”

He sprang, lightsabers accelerating into crimson blurs.

Even as Qui-Gon snapped his own lightsaber up to meet the Sith, there was a sudden roar and rushing wind.  A brown-cloaked form leaped from a speeder bike which blazed between Qui-Gon and the Sith.  Two sky-blue blades sprang into being and intercepted the Sith’s attacks, turning them aside in a whirl of frenzied motion.

Maul placed himself between Qui-Gon and the Sith, saberstaff at the ready, as the latter fell back to gauge this new and unexpected foe.  His apprentice’s familiar, red-and-black nightmare features were contorted into an expression of concern.  “Master,” he hissed.  “Are you alright?”

“I’ve certainly been better,” Qui-Gon replied.

“The ship is on its way, Master.  The boy called us.  I came as quickly as I could.”  Even as he spoke, Qui-Gon could hear the whine of the Naboo craft’s engines as it approached.

Qui-Gon looked back toward the Sith, only to realize he was gone.

“Who was he?” Maul asked.  “ _What_ was he?”

For a moment, Qui-Gon closed his eyes, breathing deeply, trying to find his calm again.

“He was dangerous,” Qui-Gon finally replied.  “And I have no doubt we will have to face him again.”


End file.
